The first time I ever wrote an article I wanted to earn money from it. I thought I was so good. I wanted to send it to someone and get hired on the spot I was 18, I think, so pardon my naiveté. I wanted to be a feature writer in the Saturday magazine like Oyunga Pala. (As much as most people think he’s a chauvinist pig, he reeks pure genius in my books. You know how hard it is to have a steady column for around ten years on the same topic every Saturday and have something new every time?)
It has come to my recent attention though that all my dreams have drastically changed. I no longer want to be a lawyer in a power suit, in front of a judge making my submissions. I no longer want to become the next Oyunga Pala! Now I just want to want to be happy!! I want the easiest route out of this existence. No hassles for me! I am way too tired of this rat race even before I get into it.
The new dream is to work in the NGO world especially because of dress down Friday! (I know that’s stupid but you have no idea how much I miss my jeans and I have only been dressing formally for a week) I can’t do that if I end up being the court going sort of lawyer. I don’t want power suits to be part of my wardrobe except for those one time interviews. I want to be simple and stylish. Suits are way too much work!
I remember at one time I had sworn that I would never be an unpaid volunteer. I would always demand allowances or throw my hands at the opportunity and search for a more generous employer. Like we say in Kiswahili- Kaa Nayo!. That was then!! The dream has been altered severely since then. I am as I write this an unpaid intern.
Like every other little girl in the world, I must have dreamt about a grand wedding with the humungous white dress and a bevy of bride’s maids. I honestly don’t remember that dream but I must have had it right? Anyway, the fact is that dream is no more. My standards as far as that is concerned is a quickie at the Attorney General’s Office and a huge cake in my freezer that I can eat for three months.
Remember how we would think boys were disgusting when we were young? That’s the more interesting of this change thing. I am always on the look out for gorgeous looking men. Whether it is an unconscious thing or not, a day never ends without my eyes going over a gorgeous ass (my all time favorite) or just I nicely built man. I like this one the most I must say.
Change is constant they tell us. Change was Obama’s campaign tool. Yes We Can! Change was the reason we all voted President Kibaki into power the first time around, because KANU we would have no more. Change is everywhere. It’s not just about you, it’s the whole world!
We must embrace change. We must be capable of building ourselves a new every time it is necessary for us to do so. Change is the only thing that defies Charles Darwin’s theory of natural selection: it is not the best that survive, it is those that can cope with the new world that do!
I am a different person now as compared to the daddy’s little girl that some of you might have met even a few years ago. My priorities have been built a new. It’s not ME ME ME ME anymore. Now it is Ammon (my son), ME and then Ammon some more before ME comes again.
Change is constant. Change we must!! Change is the only way forward.
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Wacu Mureithi is a part time law student, full-time mother and all-time dreamer. Her work can be found on seriouslypoetic.blogspot.com.